Maun

There's always a rosy feeling one gets when looking at the yesteryears of infancy. We all have triggers that take us to our childhood, it could be a smell, it could be a jingle from an advert, or it could be an ice-cream flavour. There are numerous triggers for me as well, my triggers all amalgamate into a place. Maun, a tourist town in Botswana, where I spent my preschool years. Unfortunately, I can not recall everything in great detail, but that place is littered with so many core memories that I look back on fondly. 

Not to say that I reminisce so much on the past, that I am discontent with my present season of life. Instead, I find that as I grow older  I am able to revisit memories from then with a much more clear perspective, and an understanding of what may have been happening, and why I took the actions that I did, and how it has had a ripple effect, that I still see in my day to day to life now.  

My earliest recollection of friendship is from my preschool days, play dates with friends were so blissful. When it was now time to separate, it would always leave me as an emotional mess. At times I wonder how I got accustomed to saying goodbye to friends without tearing up. It maybe that, goodbyes slowly translated into see you later, and a hope that I'll see my companions again sprouted within me. The next time is never promised though, whether it was a lack of emotional intelligence or not, I feel that I vaguely had this concept that, the last time I see a friend really could be the last time. I imagine if I said goodbye to each friend as though it were the last time. I wonder how much it would change the way I value the time spent with that friend, perhaps that's why I can fondly look back on my playdates growing up.

At that stage of life I was a solitary child, so I had plenty of time to keep myself company. I found myself spending time with twistable wax crayons and colouring books. I think that's the first time I remember entering into a state of flow. Whereby, the task at hand wasn't too difficult to make me want to quit, nor was the task too easy for me to get bored. Unfortunately when you're that young your concept of time is severely skewed, so I can't tell how much time I'd spent just shading in pages. I do remember that the only thing that would stop me would be my wrist when it started to ache. Fast forward to today, I find that whenever I get into a state of flow or when my mind just gets into the rhythm of the task at hand, I'll slave away at whatever it is and probably feel the ramifications of it the next morning when I wake up. 

As for my relationship with my mom, there's too many stories to tell. One memory I often over look, is playing a bootleg of Super Mario Bros for the NES, often times late into the night. We would take turns playing, you can imagine with the dexterity of a five year old, my turns were always short. My mother on the other hand, would be clearing whole stages far much more quickly that I ever could. The rush that I would get whilst watching her play and cheer on, when she got to the underwater level, or when she got to the fight with bowser, lingers in my mind as I write this. That was the only videgame I played with my mom intensely, perhaps maybe I should get a copy of Super Mario Bros and play with her, for old times sake. 

Another memory that involves late nights, was watching the UEFA Euro 2004 tournament, with my grandmother. Again, because my perception of time was so poor, staying up past my bedtime was such a disorienting experience. The nights felt timeless, and the exuberance when I would celebrate a goal with my grandmother was unmatched. Funny enough it was during that tournament, that I recall hearing Queen's We will rock you for the first time. Whenever I think about that I time, it makes me want to buy tickets to a major  football tournament so that I can watch one match with my grandmother.

That little boy from Maun, never truly dissipated. He lives on within me, and he comes out occasionally. I believe that we all have an inner child within us, and it takes some self awareness to identify what that child is like. When you do get to reflect and figure out who that child is, it does make a world of a difference in understanding oneself. With the hardships of having to be a responsible adult, sometimes it's okay to let that inner child out to play, and indulge in those things that made your childhood colourful. Who knows, perhaps it may stop you from aging too soon.